The Unknown Presence
by Feanturien
Summary: It's been done before I know. But it's a storyin the days of the Marauders. Drusilla has a hard time living up to her father's name but only has time to do what she pleases. Her dreams are filled with horrible visions of the end and her days, well why don
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer 1: I own nothing that belongs to the Harry Potter series but I do own Drusilla and some other characters which will be introduced in the story.

Drusilla opened her eyes and sat up slowly. The room around her was empty, a black hole in space. The walls were exposed with nothing adorning them, not even windows. Weathered stone that made up the floor was naked from any decoration. 

"I must be in some kind of dungeon." She thought. Her bare feet made a softly shuffling noise as Dru walked around the small room. 

Chains hung from the ceiling, a head dangled in the middle. The air smelled of death. 

A tall man clad in black entered the room from behind Dru. Well, at least Dru thought he was human. No skin was visible from under the black robes. His hand reached into his robes and pulled out a knife. A long, gleaming, silver knife.

Dru screamed… 


	2. September 1,1971

Authors' Note and Disclaimer: Wow finally got off my butt and typed up the chapter. Well, not literally. I do sit down when I type so...er never mind. Since I am located in a small town a planet called Earth I highly doubt I own the rights to Harry Potter. Well last time I checked I didn't. I do own Dru though. Kari, Trixy, and Ron are owned by their owners who I happen to know and therefore believe that they wouldn't enjoy you stealing them.   
  
As co-author of this story I am outraged that I was not invited to partake in the aforementioned "Authors' Note and Disclaimer"::throws outraged look at Cassie:: and have decided to write my own. No, I don't own anything that actually had to do with Harry Potter, all that rubbish belongs to J.K. Rowling and company. And, furthermore, seeing as how Cassie barely wrote any  
  
of this ::ducks as Cassie throw hairbrush:: most of the credit should go to me. Erm...anyway... enjoy part of my sick and twisted dellusional reality. Wait...did that make sense? I don't think it made sense...Whatever, just read and enjoy.   
  
Sincerely, Traciana Mahogany  
  
Chapter One  
  
...And woke up. 'What day is it?' Dru thought as she stumbled across her messy floor to the far wall where her calendar hung, "September first!? Already!?" she yelped.  
  
Dru grabbed her robe and ran to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and grimaced. Her bright, flashy, red hair, which normally reached down to her knees in soft yet tight curls, stuck out all over the place. The white her hair surrounded appeared to be her complexion. Her eyes were intense deep blue voids wreathed in bloodshot flame.  
  
"Did I get drunk or something last night?" she mused. Dru began to brush her teeth, after she rinsed her face. She opened the cabinet next to the sink and fumbled around, "Where the bloody Hell is my hairbrush?"  
  
"Dru! Pipe it down!"  
  
"Sorry Aunt Minnie! But have you seen my hairbrush!?" Dru hollered back as she slammed the cabinet door shut and flung the door open.  
  
Dru was met by an unfriendly and very disgruntled Minerva McGonagall, gently swinging a hairbrush in her hand.  
  
"Jolly good day!" Dru said and made a grab for her brush only to have it pulled away.  
  
"Are you aware of the time?" McGonagall asked in a deathly tone. Dru shook her head. "It's five thirty in the morning. If you plan to carry on in such a manner I will personally make sure you are punished." She continued to keep the brush just out of Dru's reach.  
  
A tall thin man with raven hair which normally was parted nicely to one side was now sticking up in the air, stalked over and placed the brush in Dru's hand rather violently. Minerva glared at him and hissed, "How is she supposed to learn discipline if she keeps being spoiled, Tom?"  
  
"Minerva, it's far too early in the morning besides, it's a hairbrush!"  
  
Dru giggled and slipped between her aunt and uncle who were still staring daggers at each other. 'They're so funny when they fight.'  
  
When it became a halfway decent time people began to rouse themselves. It was mostly teachers who were currently at the school but soon enough the school would be bustling with students again.  
  
The sun shone brightly as the Hogwarts Express made its way somewhat sleepily along the Scottish countryside. Traciana sat by herself in a compartment, her head resting against the window as she reviewed the morning's events. Her mother had completely forgotten about her first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and, as a result, Traciana had nearly missed getting on the train. It was a good thing that her butler knew how to apparate or she would have completely missed her first day.  
  
"Uh...er...excuse me?" Traciana's eyes opened at the sound of a vaguely familiar voice. In front of her was a boy who stood not much taller than herself, with longish hair that held many shades of brown and eyes the colour of the ocean on a prefect summer's day. He was dressed already in the school robes and his ears were sharply pointed.  
  
"Who the Hell are you?" Traciana replied rather rudely. She had had a bad morning and was certainly not in the mood to deal with bumbling fools.  
  
However, the boy would not be deterred. Instead of leaving he sat down opposite her and peered at her closely, "Trixy? Is that you?" 'Trixy,' Traciana thought, 'Only one person ever called me by that name.' Then she remembered where she knew this boy from. She could not imagine how she had forgotten: it wasn't often you meet someone with sharply pointed ears.  
  
"Trixy?" he said again, and Traciana smiled. Now she was sure. This was definitely the same boy from the Summer Arts Program. He had been there for painting and a few piano lessons and she for writing. They had become the very best of friends.  
  
"Ron, I missed you." She said, hugging him. There was finally someone here that she could actually talk to, about anything.  
  
"I...er...missed you too, Trixy." He said somewhat awkwardly. Traciana moved to sit next to him, noticing that his ears had turned a pleasant shade of pink, 'He's being all shy again,' she thought.  
  
Aloud, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to Hogwarts?"  
  
"I didn't know. Didn't find out until after camp was over. So, er, how have you been?" Ron had never been very good at making conversation.   
  
"I've been better," she replied, turning her head to look out the window. The fact was ever since she had gotten back from camp, she had gone from incredibly happy to, ' The World Sucks' mode. Tension had been thick in her house for some reason, and while her father busied himself with work, her mother had decided to take anything and everything out on her. The fights seemed endless.  
  
"Trixter..." Ron said a quiet concern in his boyish voice. Traciana wiped the tears quickly from her eyes and faced Ron again. She had been about to say something, what she could never remember, when suddenly Ron had his lips pressed gently against hers. She pulled away from the kiss slowly, slightly bewildered. 'It hadn't happened,' she told herself, 'He's my friend, just my friend. I don't fancy him. At least, I don't think I do. Shit. I have out of here.' Following her compelling urge to leave, Traciana stood up and walked out of the compartment without saying a word.   
  
Ron watched Trixy leave a million different thoughts racing through his head and most of them crawling along the lines of 'Stupid, stupid, stupid...' He really screwed things up this time. He hadn't any idea what had come over him. She seemed so sad, talking about her mother. She had needed someone to comfort, to hold her. Unfortunately, the first thing that popped into his mind was to kiss her. A stupid mistake and it may have cost him an extremely valuable friendship.  
  
Ron remembered the first few weeks at camp when they were just beginning to know each other. She had switched his sheet music with a different song so when he sat down to play, he had been playing the Funeral March instead of Prelude in C Minor. In addition, when he tried to stand, the seat of his pants stayed on the bench, held there with glue. Ron had been furious, but only at first, "You're a little trickster, aren't you?" he said grinning, "I'll have to start calling you that." He did too; he called her Trixy and whenever he was feeling particularly close to her, he would call her Trixter. She had been indignant at first, but then she had giggled and recognized it as a term of endearment. They had become fast friends.  
  
However, Ron had let things go too far, and at the worst possible moment had let his feelings for her get the best of him. "She probably hates me now." He muttered under his breath.  
  
"No, I don't hate you." Ron looked up to see Trixy standing in the doorway. She was dressed in the school robes. Her hair hung loose, around her shoulders, golden curls framing her pale face and stormy blue eyes. She sat down next to him. "Honestly, I don't hate you. Quite the opposite. You...you took me by surprise that's all. But, why, exactly, did you...did you kiss me?"   
  
There was a short silence, and Ron could feel his ears burning. 'She actually wants to know?' "Well, I...I..."  
  
At that moment the door opened and a girl fell after it. She stood up swiftly and smiled mischievously. Her red hair fell down to her waist and her green eyes sparkled. She was also dressed in the school robes. She was followed closely by what appeared, at first glance, to be a large, shabby dog but was in fact an extremely tall boy with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. The girl saw him and scowled briefly then turned her attention back to Traciana and Ron.   
  
"Hallo," she said, smiling again, "Hope I'm not interrupting anything. All the other compartments are full. My name's Kari." She flopped down in the seat facing Trixy and Ron, making herself quite at home. The boy sat down where he was, and Kari gave him a fleeting, annoyed glance, "Oh, and this is Sirius. He's a friend of mine, but lately he won't go away."  
  
"Hey, d'you guys talk funny too?" Sirius said and his irritatingly flat accent gave him away as American.  
  
"What do you mean, 'funny'." Trixy said, clearly annoyed at the interruption.  
  
'You know, with that funny British accent."  
  
"First of all, you have a bit of a British accent. Secondly, I am not British. I'm Irish."  
  
"I'm not British either, idiot." Kari chimed in, "I'm Irish too."  
  
"I am as well. In fact, I'm half leprechaun." Kari and Sirius turned to give Ron a strange look, "Well I am." He continued defensively, " See, I've even got the ears."  
  
Sirius shook his head, "Whatever. You all sound the same to me."  
  
The door opened once more and a tall boy with greasy black hair and a long hooked nose stepped into the compartment. Trixy rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. The boy looked sharply at her and said, "Excuse me?"  
  
"What?" She replied, feigning innocence.  
  
"Did you say something?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"What did you say?" the boy hissed.  
  
"Oh, I said, 'How do these people keep finding us?'"  
  
"Was that an insult?"  
  
"Possibly."  
  
Ron, who had been quiet, felt the need to step in before anything ugly happened, "What do you want?" he asked standing. The boy looked from Ron to Trixy and then back again, "Well," Ron asked again, "What do you want?"  
  
The boy drew himself up, as if finding he was better than these people, "We'll be arriving shortly. Just thought you ought to know."  
  
Ron sat again, and a small silence fell over the group, broken only by Sirius' comment, "I can't stand that kid." Which seemed to be true for the rest as well.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Erica: Dear, dear Erica. That is not what I meant by reviewing but thank you  
  
nevertheless.  
  
Kadros: Really you would? That's so sweet! Like my other stories it probably  
  
won't get finished but I'll try real hard.  
  
Melissa Greenleaf: Sorry. That was actually some little blurb I wrote for  
  
English and then decided I could make a story out of it. Thank you.  
  
Traciana Mahogany: Dude, technically speaking you reviewed your own story.  
  
That's okay. I've been tempted to do it once or twice. 


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